Side Effects May Vary

I spotted Alice in the wing opposite me, and for a second that moved so fast it might as well have not existed, she looked nervous. But the moment passed, and soon her icy exterior was back and multiplied. She slid the tiara into her wig and stepped forward.

If this were any other performance of Oklahoma!, Laurey/Celeste would be running around like an idiot and then stand with her eyes closed waiting for her groom (Curly), only to find Jud, who would then pick her up and make her his most miserable wench wife.

But that didn’t happen because Jud was locked in a fitting room and Laurey/Celeste had bigger things to worry about than that sack of muscles.

From where I stood, Alice looked small and harmless with her light pink dress, blond wig, and tiara.

Then she walked out on stage.

From the back of the stage, she wove through the chorus—whose feet kept moving but whose faces said What the hell? She mimicked what would have been Jud’s choreography as all the techies and cast backstage buzzed with confusion. The stage looked like one of those “Which of these things does not belong?” puzzles, and it was so obvious that Al was the odd piece out. She faked the choreography long enough to weasel in right alongside an unsuspecting Celeste, with her eyes closed, waiting for her groom. The techies argued back and forth, saying “Go get her!” and, “You go get her!” Ultimately, none of them were brave enough to interrupt the show completely.

The stage manager finally reasoned, “Maybe no one will notice her.”

Yeah, no one would notice the girl dressed as a prom queen in the middle of turn-of-the-century Oklahoma.

Everyone backstage went quiet as Alice paused in front of Celeste and lifted her veil. Celeste jumped back, the exact same reaction she should have had to Jud—but more authentic.

Alice’s lips twitched as gallons of homemade fake blood rained down directly over Alice and Celeste. I looked up and could faintly make out the figure in the rafters, and only because I knew he was there. Most of the cast members avoided the worst of it, but none of them got it quite as bad Celeste, whose shrill scream rang through the auditorium.

Alice stood facing Celeste and drenched in red. It was so obvious. She was Carrie, Stephen King’s Carrie.

For a second, the whole world froze with shock. Everyone stared, and no one did anything. Except the orchestra. They kept playing until, one by one, each chair began to falter as they noticed the spectacle on stage. Alice opened her eyes and wiped them with the only part of her arm left untouched by the fake blood. Then she turned and ran directly to me.

I’d stuffed her black coat in my backpack, and was ready for her with a huge brown fleece blanket. I wrapped it around her body and we were off. She kept tripping over her long dress, slowing us down.

We were nearly to the emergency exit when I saw how exhausted she was. Without thinking, I ducked down and wrapped my arms around her thighs, throwing her over my shoulder with the fleece still pulled tightly around her. Alice shook against my body, laughing so hard I almost thought she was crying.

I stiff-armed the bar on the emergency exit door. The Geo waited for us outside like a chariot. Unceremoniously, I threw Alice into the front seat and raced around to the driver’s side. I sped off and headed for my apartment. Alice sat forward a little, doing her best not to stain the passenger seat, but really I didn’t care.

We’d made a clean getaway. I glanced at my cell to find a text from Dennis saying he was in the clear too, but the place was A FUCKING ZOO, MAN.

In the car, Alice and I retold the story of what had happened with huge animated gestures. I felt like we were kids again and the only thing between us was nothing at all. Once we’d exhausted the memory from every angle, a quiet settled between us. All I could think about was the feeling of her hot breath on my back as I carried her to the car, and the way she leaned against me in the fitting room of the Nifty-Thrifty, and how we hadn’t kissed since Lake Quasipi. We hadn’t even talked about the kiss; I was starting to think I’d made the whole thing up.

Alice bobbed in her seat, unable to keep still. I could feel it too—the adrenaline rush from doing something so completely crazy. It made my head feel busy, like I was feeling too many things at once.

At home, I gave her an old beach towel that my mom wouldn’t miss and a clean bar of soap. I closed my door to change my clothes, then opened the door and sat on my bed, giving myself a clear view of the bathroom door on the other side of the hall. Steam curled out from beneath the door like an invitation. But it wasn’t.

I went to the kitchen to make a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. When I returned, Alice sat on my bed in one of my T-shirts and a pair of drawstring shorts, which was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen.